RAD is a maze with no ending...<BR><BR>RAD is not defined. And therefore is.<BR> We dance. <BR>We write. <BR>We perform. <BR>We rage. <BR>For the hell of it.<BR><BR> Who's RAD? <BR><BR><BR>Angel: <BR>"My white muse lounges. She urges me to take the plunge into the plight of art, but I'm already there. She evades me when I want to cuddle her as mine, and bites my hands when she wants to play. At night she stays by my side, curled into blissful oneness."<BR><BR>MAV: <BR>"I have been the loyal servant of my muse ever since she used her sapphire wire-cutters on my greatest cage. She whispers words, moves my muscles, then yells until she is satisfied. As a tormented conduit, I translate mystical creations for earthly consumption."<BR><BR>Z: <BR>"Museless and movingdisgruntled and humbledhealer and saintcanvas and paintmaster of a slavewho refuses to behavean empty cupa broken promisea lie filled with riddlesealed with a kissliving for the hell of it,and doing it wellstrengthening voicesand building a story to tell"
Artopium connects artists with the thing they need most: money.